WoT Short Stories: A Collection of Oneshots
by Racingmenace
Summary: From epic battles, to simple living. These stories will have variety. Rated T for swearing.
1. Chapter 1

"OKAY! TIME TO MURDER SOME ARTY!" Tom said. He was ready and raring to go do stuff.

"Oi. Shut up and go scout you stupid T2 Light." Some gruff voice said over the radio, sounding quite annoyed. Tom gave the voice no mind though, for he possessed the power of... He didn't know actually, he didn't have any powers. This made Tom sad.

Tom was snatched out of his thoughts when he heard the blaring of the battle starting, the engines of the other tanks started and thudded in effort to make their hulls move. He was confused for a second, before rushing off to crest on a hill. "Good luck suicide scouting, mate." Said a Matilda that Tom rushed past quickly. Now, Tom was quite upset with that Matilda. Tom was smart. He never suicide scouted in his life. He decided to take out his anger on some arty rear! Well... when he got to those arties anyways.

"BY THE POWER OF WARDADDY!" Tom heard a strange voice over the radio, confusing him. "NOOOOO-OO-OO-OO-" then there was nothing but the crackling of Tom's radio, this was followed by a good few annoyed groans from Tom's team-mates. They consisted of "OMG"s and "Stupid noob"s and a few swears and racial slurs. Oh well. At least Tom hadn't been spotted yet.

He moved from cover to bush, to wall and to another bush. He spotted a few enemy tanks and proceeded to shoot at them. Tom flinched when he saw a D2 get blown to bits by an artillery shell, random parts were flung everywhere. A small 'thud' slammed next to Tom. Panicking, Tom looked to where the shot came from and saw that the D2's 47mm gun had landed next to him. A little nervous, Tom hurled himself out of the bush he was hiding in and towards the enemy base.

"OMG you stupid HEAT spamming idiot!" Snarled a rather angry voice that Tom recognized as the Matilda he encountered earlier. "Screw this, I need some tea... And some scones..." Tom scooted over to a rock and peeked around its corner. He saw a Ke-Ni frolicking about in the open grass, making what can be best described as "Ninja noises" and swishing at the ground with its gun. Tom weighed up his chances and drove round the corner.

Tom sneaked up behind the Ke-Ni like a snake and was about to slam his gun right into the light tank's rear but he somehow hit a tree. The lumber slowly fell to the ground, making a very loud crashing sound, alerting the Japanese tank to his presence. "Hiii-ya! I'm a ninja! You can't hurt m-" Tom didn't want to take a chance with this idiot, so he started shooting. "-Ow ow ow ow! Why would you even do... that..." The Ke-Ni whined before he banzai charged off a cliff. Crying sadly.

Tom decided to ignore the Light and drove off, reloading along the way. Tom spotted a Loyd gun Carriage. He froze up, Tom's gun was not loaded yet! He trained his sights on the evil arty as it did the same thing to him. Oh, no. Tom was sure that he was going to die if his adversary hit him. Strangely, the artillery started speeding towards him. Tom watched as his imminent death approached him. Tom saw the flash of light and closed his optics. A second passed, then another, he opened his optics to see the artillery backing up. It was trembling as Tom approached it, he was betting it didn't feel so smart now, didn't it?

Hearing the soft _**click **_of his gun being loaded, Tom planted his entire clip into it, making it burst into flames. Content with the slaughter, Tom turned his attention to a T57. He took to speeding around the artillery, waiting for his reload to finish. After a lot of disgruntling circling, Tom made a point of killing off the T57 as quickly as possible so he could get to tenderizing a Bison which was trundling towards him. Tom had half his clip left and that was it for his ammo, he didn't buy enough ammo this time around and he was pretty sure that he'd rage at himself later for it.

He circled around the German artillery and planted what was left of his ammunition into its rear. Apparently, RNG was on Tom's side that day and the Bison's engine set on fire. "OMG! ARE YOU SERIOUS? GOLD SPAMMING NOOB!" Shouted the Bison before he burnt out. Ha. Tom's radio crackled to life again and he stopped to try and pay attention to it. It spat out some garbled words before starting to make sense.

"Can I-I-I-help please? -At B3! Help!" The voice over the radio was actually quite close to where Tom was... Even if he didn't have any ammo, Tom would try and help out.

Scrambling over to the area where he was supposedly needed, Tom saw a Marder II who had both his tracks blown off and his gun was bent, also, his engine was smoking profusely. Lunging forward, Tom saw an AT-1 creeping up to the Marder II, toying with its prey before ending it. Tom slammed himself into the side of the AT-1, tracking it and damaging it badly. Tom held this position for a while, but he was confused when he heard a whistling sound.

_Oh no._

Tom felt an extreme heat wash across his armour as the AT-1 was turned into scrap, sending shrapnel into his thin armour. Tom saw his life before his optics and rolled back into a nearby rock; he was in serious pain. He didn't want to die, but maybe he deserved it? Maybe RNGesus decided that he was going to die that day, he didn't know...

Tom stopped struggling against the rock when he realised that the pain wouldn't go away any time soon and just tried to relax for a moment. He saw the Marder II roll up to him. "Our artillery just nailed you... I-I'm sorry..." He said solemnly, before driving off. Wow. Tom didn't even get a thanks for his heroic sacrifice. What a mean tank.

Tom had been resting for a few minutes, but he hadn't given up on the battle just yet. When he decided to drive off again, Tom heard someone crying out for help on the radio. "I need help at G5! I'm about to go down! NOOOO-" A loud explosion stopped the pleas for help for good. For some reason, Tom felt truly alone after that. He had a deep fear that he was the last tank on his team. He turned on the radio and asked if anyone was out there. No response. Greaaat...

Tom's only options seemed to be: A, to run away and B, to die fighting. So yeah... both aren't very feasible. Actually, option B would have a shorter and more definite ending to Tom's life but he kinda _didn't want to die. _So maybe he would try his luck at escaping. His thoughts were cut short by a BT-2 rushing up behind, taking Tom by surprise. "Stop right there!" She sounded triumphantly, forcing Tom to stop. The BT-2 rolled up to him and shot his right track off, the round penetrating straight through his tracks and going straight into his hull, making him cry in pain. "There, now you can't run off." The BT-2 said before turning on her radio. "Hey, err... Denver! Come over to B5! I've captured an enemy!" Her thick Russian accent got a response almost immediately. Nodding her gun, the light tank clicked her radio off.

A minute or so passed. Tom had become accustomed to the intense pain he was feeling. Or so he told himself, as actually, he was whimpering to the point where it was annoying the BT-2. "Guh... Shut up, please, you're killing me! Vyyebat'!" She swore at the T2 light angrily, patience wearing thin. "If you want, I can kill you now!"

"Just... Don't, please... Even if you torture or kill me later... Please make the pain stop. It's just not right." Tom pleaded sadly. his fate was already determined, his captor wouldn't care either way, right? The BT-2 hesitated. Making a 'hmm' sound, she turned her turret towards Tom.

"Fine, I will have it your way. I don't have anything on me, but we can just... Talk." Tom nodded with his gun.

"W-what's your name?" He asked, Tom had heard of some tanks not having names – instead, they'd go with their model names instead.

"BT-2." She answered curtly. "From where I come from, only a few tanks around here have actual names. Usually, you have to be quite special to get your own name. What's yours?"

"Tom. Self designated arty hunter!" Tom said, pride emanating from his hull. "Oh, I am a T2 Light, if you want a model name." the BT-2 made a noise of acknowledgement.

"How... How was life in your community?" She asked quietly. "Like... Living standards?"

"Hell, no bragging or anything but we had really good lives – especially as soldiers. My parents had a long line of soldiers behind them and they were soldiers themselves once. As soon as I could shoot my gun, I was trained through the day until I was absolutely exhausted, only to have me train the next day. Still love the family though."

"I can relate, our culture demands discipline and honour from our warriors, so those wanting to enlist usually went through endless training until they became ready for battle. New recruits that passed the training were sent into suicide missions to prove their worth."

"Rough."

"Well, most of us usually made it."

"H-oww... How many missions you been on?" Tom tried to move himself, it hurt. A lot.

"Fifty... Fifty-two. Yours?"

"It's Fifty-two too, actually."

Tom heard a loud rumbling sound behind him and he turned his turret to get a good look at a T-28 and a Churchill I. He felt frightened, normally, he'd be sent to fight tanks of his own tier but not this! Feeling betrayed, Tom wheeled his turret back to the BT-2, whose side's view was taken up by the T-28 that had just moved right next to her. They seemed close, really close.

They snapped to the Churchill's attention when he called out. Tom felt the gaze of the heavy tank pierce him, he drove forward, towards the BT-2 and said: "What information can we get out of this whelp?"

"It doesn't seem that he has any info, sir. He likely won't be able to survive an interrogation as he is too badly damaged." The BT-2 answered with crisp confidence.

"Then finish the bugger off and declare the battle won!" Replied the Churchill angrily, it seemed that he wanted this to be done with. "Kill him, BT-2, prove your honour!" It didn't mean anything to Tom; he was going to die, to have his life ended on the battlefield.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

><p>The sun was shining warmly, the bright flowers were shining their colours in contrast to one-another, there was peace. The calm breeze was cut apart by a T-54, chopping through the blades of grass and crushing flowers to get to her destination. She made her way past some trees, some boulders, some other random things until she found 25 graves. They were lined up in lines of 5, gaps being large enough that most tanks could pass through and turn around in with ease.<p>

"Hey! Wait! Hold up!" T-54 turned around to see STA-1, her husband. "What is it you're trying to show... Me..." The STA-1 slowly stopped talking when he realized where he was.

"This, this was the tank I executed. Remember that battle?" She spoke with precision, before turning her gun to a gravestone that read; "R.I.P. Tom, T2-Light.?-?" The STA-1 drove up and looked at it.

"Huh... I'm surprised they could never find that day on the calender. One minute, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to do nothing, but pay my respects."

"He _killed_ your brother, T-54. Why not pay your respects to him?"

"I already done that, I just had... respect of this tank. I didn't even like him but he showed bravery in the face of death, he fought knowing that he was going to die eventually."

"Most tanks _do _that though, why is he special?"

"Remember that battle in Malinovka?"

"Yes? Why?"

"When I got pulled out, both my tracks blown off, artillery shell hit me, I was pretty much begging for my life to be spared. This tank... This tank didn't, he wasn't even trying to stop us from killing him, you know? He just accepted it, and moved on in mind."

"I-I see." the STA-1 stuttered, a little twisted up thanks to the bad memory.

"You know what his last words to me were?"

"What?"

"You and that T-28 are going to be happy together, I can just see it." She repeated solemnly, "I think that came to be true, don't you think?"

"Yes, it certainly was. Now, I think T-34's going to be wondering where we are, so we should head off."

T-54 joined STA-1 side by side. When they started to drive, they heard a voice. "HA HA HA! I KNEW IT!" Tom's form appeared by them, he was see through. "I AM A SORCERER, LOVEBIRDS!" Tom yelled.

"You're dead." T-54 almost blindly retorted.

"Oh... bummer."


	2. Chapter 2

"Surrender! We have you surrounded!" A Cruiser II aimed its howitzer at the now cornered Pz IIIL. "Come on then scrub!" The Pz IIIL yelled, aiming in on his supposed captor. "You ain't got no chance!" The Cruiser II almost shook at the aggressive display that his enemy was showing.

"OI! Don't move! My lads are on their way right now." The Cruiser shouted, he drove closer to the Pz IIIL in a poor attempt to intimidate him.

"Bad move, trottel!" The Pz IIIL charged at the Cruiser tank, firing shot after shot into him. The Cruiser was barely able to react before he was dead. The Panzer drove off in search of his next victim, he was almost livid. He drove past the outskirts of a small forest, also passing by a large rock. Unfortunately, the rock held an A-20 behind it who spotted the medium tank. He fired at the Panzer's rear, the shot penetrated and cracked the armour.

"Haha! Finally someone shows up!" The Panzer cackled evilly, letting his hull turn towards his target. Aggressively, the A-20 charged, only to get cut down by the Panzer IIIL's gun. Quietly, the Panzer chuckled, he'd been having a good day. He started driving again, not even noticing the hole in his rear. There was the sweetly satisfying smell of fire that accompanied the scenery of burnt and destroyed tanks on the hills.

His romp through the battlefield was halted when a trio of FT-17s turned round the corner. They squirmed and tried to flee, but the merciless Pz IIIL shot out their tracks. Shells attempted to pierce his front, but they failed to do anything but bounce off. He laughed. "Ha. You have no idea of what I'm going to do to ya..." Lazily, the Pz IIIL drove toward the now terrified FTs. "I'll tell you... First, I'll kill one of you, slowly and painfully, with your friends watching..." he pointed his gun at the first FT to the left of him.

"Please no..." The little FT squeaked. Another one fumed with rage.

"No! You're not doing that! Vous monstre!" he yelled.

The Pz IIIL turned to the other FT's outburst. "You know, I might just understand what you just said, and I may also assure you... Vous allez souffrir le plus, imbécile." He assured.

"Wow, you're pretty good... Wait, what?!" The FT shook. The Panzer IIIL saw a low flying projectile heading towards him, an artillery shell. He judged his shot and waited for the high-explosive to come to him. "I'm afraid I have to kill you quick, sadly." he muttered before he shot the incoming artillery shell which was just passing over the FTs. It exploded, killing the three light tanks easily with splash damage.

"What a disappointment." He mumbled to himself as, proceeding to think about the artillery shell that interrupted him. "I'm going to teach that arty a lesson in manners..." He drove himself in the direction the artillery shell came from. Again, he observed the scenery with pleasure, almost losing himself to the sound of battle. He searched closer towards the enemy base, hoping to find his target.

In a patch of bushes, he spotted an artillery of American origin. It spotted him as well, took aim and attempted to snapshot the Panzer. The shot smashed into the Panzer's turret, completely tearing off his gun. He growled and charged towards the artillery. The artillery found itself getting rammed into hard by the Panzer. The Panzer laughed when the artillery tried to break itself away and took advantage of its cowardice.

He charged again, impacting against the artillery and causing fairly significant damage to its front. The artillery loaded another shell and fired at very close range. The shot damaged the Panzer IIIL's armour even more, causing cracks in it. "Why won't you die?!" The artillery cried, within an inch of his life. The Panzer laughed, backing off. "I'd rather not tell." He muttered before finishing off the artillery with final ram.

* * *

><p>Dr. Da Silva munched on his baguette almost furiously as the Panzer IIIL relayed the final parts of his story to the therapist. It turned out that his next patient's appointment was coming up, so he had to end off this session quickly. "So, that is how lost your gun? Do you have any kind of, say, pain or anything like that from it?" He asked.<p>

"Yes, that was how I lost my gun. No, I don't get any pain from it... Though, I do miss it sometimes... I do miss killing others..." The Panzer replied in a depressed voice.

"Okay, I'll refer you to the clinic for some antidepressants. Oh! Is that the time? It looks like I'll have to see you next week!" Hastily, Dr. Da Silva hurried the Panzer out of the room. "Bye now!" He slammed the door and sighed, heading back to his desk. He looked at the list of appointments and grumbled.

"This is going to be a long day..."


	3. Chapter 3

An M7 drove up next to a Churchill 1's side. "What are they doing?" The M7 asked. The Churchill turned his turret towards the M7, whacking him with his gun.

"Like I said five minutes ago, they're still just sitting there, and they're still just talking!" The Churchill answered impatiently – for the fiftieth time today.

"What are they talking about?" The M7 questioned again, much to the Churchill's annoyance.

"I can't bloody _hear_ them, you complete and utter moron! We're over two-hundred metres away!" The Churchill bashed on the turret of the M7 with his gun in anger. He sighed, and muttered "I hate you."

"Hey, I'm the one who doesn't have a scope or upgraded optics or whatever! What in hell am I supposed to do, sit here and play with the damn rocks?!" The M7 yelled as loud as he could at the Churchill, who had started to pay attention to a bunch of incoming shells.

"Crap, they see us." The Churchill grumbled, before pushing the M7 down the cliff they were perched on. The Churchill promptly followed.

"More like they _heard _us!" The M7 said, before driving up to the base, which was rather close to their vantage point. The Churchill growled. "They heard _you_ you complete and utter twit!" A Sherman Firefly appeared out of their round bases door. He inspected both of the tanks. "Well, what do we have here? Are the two idiots are done with their 'scouting' mission?" he taunted. The Churchill shoved his way past the medium tank, muttering expletives. "Hah, what's wrong with Church?" asked the Firefly. The M7 sighed, and went past the Firefly.

"He's just being his usual self, ignorant and stuck-up his own exhaust pipe." Said the M7, who then turned to the Firefly. "What have you been doing? Doing lewd things behind your favourite rock?"

"Err... No..." The Firefly went quiet.

* * *

><p>"Oi! Schweines! Get your rears over here!" A Panther yelled towards the interior of his base. He was decorated in bright red paint, some would call it a disadvantage, but he would call it 'misdirection'. Two tanks, an orange Panzer III and a maroon couloured D.W2 came up to the Panther. "What are your orders, Kommandant?" Chirped the D.W2, while the Panzer III sighed.<p>

"Dammit, Panther, I was getting a real good sleeping marathon going on there."

"Shut up, dirtbag! We are going to launch an assault on the dirty evil blue base just over yonder!" Yelled the Panther authoritatively. "Kleine! You are going to be in charge of navigation!" The D.W2 nodded happily. "Dirtbag! You are going to valiantly sacrifice yourself to our enemy and hopefully die to an accidental shot from behind which would _obviously_not be mine!" The Panzer III sighed again.

"Yes, _sir._" He moaned.

They set off toward the other base, with Panther leading, with Kleine by his side and Dirtbag lagging behind. "How much further... is that... stupid base?" Dirtbag whined before ramming into a wall. "Right here, idiot." Kleine said. A bunch of blue-coloured tanks came out of the base.

"Church. Who are these tanks? Do they want to have a sleepover?" One of them, a M3 Grant, asked.

"Surround, scrubs! We have you surrendered!" Panther yelled.

"Uh, Kommandant? You may have-" Kleine started before a Sherman Firefly interrupted him.

"You what? You are an idiot, Panther!" The Firefly laughed, drawing an annoyed grunt from the Panther.

"CHAAAAAAAAAARGE!" Yelled the Panther as he fired his gun. The shot hit the Firefly at a bad angle and bounced off.

"That one bounced, Kommandant!" Yelled Kleine as he fired his gun. His shot went into the sky as he was really bad at aiming. Dirtbag was just simply dozing, his laziness taking effect. The Firefly fired his gun at Dirtbag, but missed and hit the dirt, so he gave up and went away. The M3 Grant? Well, he was shooting at a tree, decimating its branches._Literally._

Dirtbag was brought back to his senses when the Panther drove behind him and yelled "Dirtbag! I need ammunition!" before attacking Dirtbag's bags.

"I thought Kleine had the ammo!" Dirtbag said before getting pushed towards the Firefly by the Panther.

"You're an IDIOT! I HAVE ALWAYS TOLD YOU TO CARRY THE AMMUNITION AND YOU ALWAYS SCREW IT UP!" Panther yelled forcefully.

"Hey, I don't pay attention..." Dirtbag mumbled before Panther smashed him with his gun.

"WHAT ARE ON ABOUT DIRTBAG?!" Panther almost screamed.

"I use meeting time as sleeping time!" Dirtbag contently said.

"USE YOUR BRAIN FOR ONCE!" Panther shouted, "STAY AWAKE! DON'T SLEEP!"

"You're out of ammo you bloody idiots!" Called Church as he drove towards Panther. "You should surrender." Panther didn't react much, but aimed his gun at Church.

"What if this was a trick?" Panther devilishly said. Church laughed.

"Because you haven't shot me ye-" Church was interrupted by Panther shooting him. "OW YOU BITCH!" Panther reversed,

"Retreat! Hahahah!" Panther ordered before taking off towards his own base. Kleine immediately followed, chirping "Good one Kommandant!"

Dirtbag turned around and stared at Panther. Church rubbed where Panther's shell had hit him. "That guy's a braindead ass." he grumbled angrily. Dirtbag sighed.

"Yeah, he is."

"Hey," Church started. "Is 'Dirtbag' your real name? 'Cause if it is, that's funny." he chuckled.

"No, it isn't." Dirtbag retorted.

"Shut up and follow your leader before I shoot you over there,Dirtbag." Church said before firing at Dirtbag, missing horrendously. "That was a warning shot."

"Yeah, right. Anyway, I'll leave you and your horrible aim alone, douche!" Dirtbag left in the same direction that Kleine and Panther did.

"Hey, Tomato!" Church turned to the M3 Grant, who had finished with his anti-tree 'work'. "Get back inside, idiot!"

"What? Is there lemonade? And a sleepover?" Tomato asked.

"No, you are not getting lemonade, you noob. Talk to Firefly, I don't know, just go away." Church impatiently replied. Tomato replied with a hasty "Okay!" before scampering off. Church decided to hang around for awhile and enjoy the peace without his idiot 'teammates' around to annoy him. All of a sudden he heard a bunch of shells going off.

"AAAGHHH TOMATO YOU TEAM KILLING FUCKTARD!" Firefly yelled as he zipped past Church with Tomato in tow, who was shooting him. Church grumbled.

_Yep... so much for peace and quiet..._

**_A/N: Got to have a laugh now and then and do something completely stupid._**


	4. Chapter 4

The door opened, spreading light into the main hall. The main hall diverged into three routes: one up a small staircase, another into a study and finally a lounge. Very little light had touched the ageing interior and revealed it's colour, but for now, the old and dulled colours shone as brilliantly as they could.

Three tanks trundled in. One, the leader, a Ke-Ni, held a torch with an iron grip. He was followed by a Cruiser II and a Luchs.

"Sada, do we really need to search here?" The Cruiser timidly asked.

"Sheila, we're only here for a book. We'll only be here for a short time." Sadatake, the Ke-Ni, explained.

"Ja we know that, but what if there's someone – or some_thing_ else here?" The Luchs proceeded toward an old bookcase and studied it, pulling out a few books and inspecting their spines.

"Come on, Penrod, you know there's nothing here. This house is deserted, unknown, no-one for about a mile." Sadatake stated..

"That makes it all the easier for a killer to hide here..." Penrod mentioned, making Sheila gasp in fright.

"Don't worry Sheila! If any murderous fool comes after us, I'll protect you!" Sadatake spoke fiercely.

The three drove into a giant lounge. It held giant paintings on the dull burgundy walls; the floor was made of wooden planks which were coloured a deep, dirty brown. Big seats were dotted around a dark, dank fireplace. The room was littered with bookcases, which held hundreds upon hundreds of books that varied in colour and size. Although the room smelt weird and was eerily dark, it still felt somewhat cosy.

The door they came through slammed shut with a loud_ thwack_, making Sadatake and his friends jump in surprise. They turned to the door. "What was that?!" Penrod yelled, less toward his friends but more at the door. Time passed slowly for that moment, edging along as the tanks wondered what slammed the door. Sadatake made a sigh of relief when he concluded that nothing was there. "It was nothing... just the wind." Sadatake muttered quietly but surely.

"Don't be too sure, Sadatake." A brassy voice sounded throughout the room, shaking books from their shelves. A torrent of cold air assaulted the terrified tanks continuously as they huddled together. Sheila shrieked and shook in terror, easily scared by such paranormal activity. A dark fog surrounded the tanks, malicious and threatening. With a breath of determination and curiosity Penrod braved his fear of the fog and touched it.

Suddenly, the chilling gusts stopped and the fog receded. A blood curdling laugh filled the room, seeming to echo relentlessly in what seemed to be an attempt of breaking the young tank's sanity. The sound eventually cleared, leaving the tanks alone. When Sadatake and Sheila regained their senses, they noticed that Penrod was gone.

"Penrod?" Sheila called. She got no answer. "Penrod?!" She called again, only getting the creaking of floorboards and clinking of rocking chandeliers as a response. Sadatake spoke up.

"He's gone Sheila..." Sheila turned to him.

"We have to find him! What if he was taken by the fog? Where would he be?!" She yelled in panic. Sadatake didn't respond. He knew what had happened.

"Penrod's been taken. By a spirit of some sort." Sadatake looked toward the study. "Only sorcery can deal with spirits."

"That book we are here for has sorceries in it, right?" Sheila asked. Sadatake nodded. "Then we find it as soon as possible. It is imperative that we save Penrod!" Sheila dashed toward the study with newfound determination and courage.

Sadatake stayed behind, looking through the large amount of literature scattered across the ground. He checked everywhere in the room fervently. He had little success in his objective. Frustrated, he chucked a book into the unlit fireplace. He trundled out of the lounge into the main hall. Looking towards the stairs, he saw an unmoving dark fog blocking the stairs' usage. He heard a call from Sheila, and hastened himself into the murky green colour of the study. He found her rummaging behind a bookshelf.

"Sheila! Have you found anything?" Sadatake asked towards the cruiser tank as he came up behind her. Sheila turned her turret around to face him, she seemed excited.

"I've found it, I think!" She announced. "The only thing is, we need a key."

"Damn." Sadatake cursed. "Where would that key be?" He turned to a desk and searched it, with nothing coming up. He drove toward a trapdoor and opened it. The passage lead to a simple wooden stairway, which was embraced by darkness and faded lightly by dust. A faint smell of burnt-out candle met the air.

Hushed, the tanks made their way down with Sadatake, still holding his torch, going first soon followed by Sheila. The cellar was illuminated slightly, showing off it's impressive stock of wines and candles. The flooring of the cellar was like the rest of the large residence, wooden planks. Wooden beams supported the ceiling, despite their old and cracked nature. Moving across the cellar flooring, Sadatake became acquainted with the antique paintings hung on the wall, all of them eerily depicting a harsh ground of war. He looked behind them, seeing if they held the key that he so dearly needed to save his friend and fulfil his greatest wish.

"Sada..." Sheila spoke irregularly, as if she was barely fluent in her language. "I... I want you... t-to do something for me."

"Hmm? Yes?" Sadatake finally spoke as he turned his attention towards Sheila. She drove an awkward few metres toward him groggily. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm j-just fine." Sheila mumbled. "K-kill me..."

"What?!" Sadatake exclaimed, backing away.

"If you... won't... I-I guess I'll have to k-kill you." Her mumbling became harsh and more broken up. Sadatake trained his gun on Sheila as she aimed her howitzer at him. "Shoot me!" Sadatake connected the dots.

"You've been possesed, Sheila." Sadatake spoke, conscious of the large gun aimed at him. "Try and fight it!"

Sheila advanced toward him, sluggishly but menacingly. Sadatake knew this wasn't going to work out for him if he just kept talking. He looked around the dull surroundings, finding nothing of use. He backed up into a wall. He felt squashed, sick to his soul. He wanted question the spirit, ask it why it was taking his friends away.

Taking sight of a nearby toolbox, Sadatake quickly examined it. He saw a pipe nearby that had fell off the wall. Taking said pipe, he readied himself to strike Sheila. Sadatake hoped that he could knock the cruiser out in one hit with the pipe as to not cause too much pain later on. _If there will be a later on..._

Sadatake swung the pipe as hard as he could. The metal object hurtled toward his possessed friend. A slamming noise occurred as the pipe crashed into the side of Sheila's turret. Sheila didn't react for a second, but fell into the deep sleep known as unconsciousness. Sadatake shakily exhaled. "Damn it..." He swore to himself, deep in frustration.

He cast the pipe aside. It struck the toolbox, knocking it over for the lid to swing open. He dared a glance at the container, expecting nothing but simple tools. However, he was mistaken as a key had fell out and slid across the flooring. He rushed to get it. _Is this it? _Sadatake mentally asked. He darted up the stairs as fast as his tracks could carry him, wondering if this key would be his and his friends' salvation.

Rushing behind the bookshelf, Sadatake was expecting to find a safe or some other method of safekeeping. What he found instead was the exact book he was looking for. For some reason, when he inspected it, he found it had a large padlock on it. Hastily, Sadatake slammed the key into the padlock and twisting it. The padlock came off and so did the chain binding the book. Briskly, Sadatake opened the book.

A surge of powerful energy flooded through him, surrounding him with a glowing blue flame. The light tank felt powerful, more powerful than he ever heard before. He looked toward the book, as he had taken his sight away from it. It had pages after pages of instructions of spell usage. Knowledge seeped into his mind. It was invasive, to say the least.

After he was done feeling like a god, Sadatake shut the book and set it down. Looking toward the passage, he found an urge to check on Sheila. He dropped himself down the stairs again to find the Cruiser tank still unconscious. Approaching, Sadatake felt a pang of regret in his mind when he saw the rather large dent that disfigured Sheila's turret.

_Idea._

Sadatake decided to try and heal Sheila using his new power. He concentrated on forming the spell. Magic snaked from him, the fiery rope coloured a deep blue. It twisted and turned around Sheila, giving off a haze of glittery light. Sheila began to hold a glow around her form, a dull but bright blue. Then, the magic dissipated.

Sadatake was mentally strained, but, he did it. The dent on Sheila's turret was gone. He thought that the Cruiser tank would be awakened from his spell, but she was not. So, instead of getting Sheila out of there and saving Penrod on his own, Sadatake waited.

After a while, Sadatake caught himself falling into the dark embrace of sleep. Snapping himself out of the binding tiredness, Sadatake found that Sheila was stirring. Instead of causing a commotion, he stayed quiet. "Is it gone?" Sheila asked evenly. Sadatake shuddered, for a reason he couldn't explain.

"Yes. Maybe. I knocked you out before the demon could make you kill me." He said, moving a small distance toward Sheila. "Are you all right?" She nodded.

"Just a small bit of disturbance and a tingling feeling in my turret, but I'm okay." Sheila spoke.

"Right. I hope you don't get mad at me when I say this, but I smashed your turret and caused a pretty nasty dent."

"That's... fair, given the circumstances."

"Then, I went and healed the dent with my new magical abilities." Sheila gasped.

"You need to save Penrod!" She started off toward the stairs. "I'll come too, if you're okay with that!"

"It's too dangerous for you, you need to wait outside." Sadatake ordered. Sheila stopped where she was and looked at Sadatake.

"Are you sure?" She asked.

"Yes, for your benefit, and for mine." Sadatake spoke coolly.

"I'll see myself out, then." Sheila drove up the stairs, she was followed by Sadatake.

Sheila passed the book from which Sadatake had read from earlier. She stopped and gazed at it, pausing her movements for a few seconds. She then resumed her driving. After passing through a doorway and turning left, Sheila found herself at the door from where she entered the place of haunting. Sadatake came up behind her. Sheila turned around. "Sadatake... I'm staying." She spoke bravely, with courage.

"You can't, you can't protect yourself from the demon's attacks!" Sadatake explained harshly. He paused, taking a deep breath. "What if we die here..? I don't want to get you killed. I don't want to be responsible for your dying!"

"And I don't want you to die scared and alone, if you do!" Sheila argued. "I'm staying. You are not going to be alone."

"Please..?" Sadatake teared up just a bit, just enough to be noticed. "Just go..."

"I'm sticking with you." Sheila stated. "I'm scared, you're scared, but we need to rescue Penrod together.

"Fine, just stay close." Sadatake gave in. He opened the door anyway, just to see the outside for what could be the last time.

After pulling himself together, Sadatake turned and went up the stairs. The wood creaked with strain as Sadatake and Sheila drove towards the black fog. Reaching the top, Sadatake stopped. "Sheila, get close to me. I'm going to make a ward to protect us from the fog, if it's dangerous." He ordered. Without question, Sheila came up tightly next to him. Sadatake focused his mind on creating the ward that would protect him and Sheila.

The two tanks were surrounded by a fairly big dome that centred around Sadatake that consisted of a bright blue illumination that dispelled the dark fog that impaired the tank's view from past the top of the stairs. "Wow... It works..." Sheila remarked. Sadatake nodded.

"Right. Let's go." He ordered.

They drove toward the nearest room over the cracked and rotted wooden floorboards. The door was already cracked open slightly, allowing the tanks to peek inside. The room was what seemed to be a bedroom, from first sight, which intrigued Sadatake. He drove into the door slowly, opening it further; the pair then went inside.

"Penrod!" Yelled Sheila's shrill voice as she caught sight of the German light tank, who was stuck in the corner of the room, quivering. He immediately perked up when he heard Sheila cry out to him. "I'm not dead!" Penrod triumphantly yelled. "Or are we both dead?"

"No, I'm pretty sure we're not, Penrod..." Sadatake responded, strained by a sudden force upon his ward. "Quick, we need to get out of here!"

"What's that dome covering you two?" Penrod asked, bewildered by the magical field.

"It's a ward, I'm using it to protect us from the spirit. Now, quickly, let's go before we get engulfed!" Sadatake spun around as Penrod went under the ward's protection.

As soon as the tanks left the room, the fog intensified. It fought against the magical barrier that protected the tanks, making Sadatake fatigued mentally. He urged himself – and his friends – down the stairs as quickly as he could. The door was in clear sight now, the group drove as fast as they could. They were nearly there, so incredibly close...

The door slammed shut.

_**A/N: It took me a fair amount of time to do this weird mess. Most of the time was spent procrastinating. Thanks Scarface One for setting me off!**_


End file.
